


galaxies

by skuls



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Episode: s08e021 Existence, F/M, Kid Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-20
Updated: 2018-03-20
Packaged: 2019-04-05 05:26:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,873
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14037150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skuls/pseuds/skuls
Summary: He doesn’t hold his son for the first four days of his life.





	galaxies

**Author's Note:**

> so this is an existence ficlet that was originally supposed to be part of a longer piece i worked on this weekend, but i never finished the other parts. this originated from the footage from msiv coupled with a rewatch of the end scene of existence. mulder’s gonna hug his son tomorrow!!

He doesn’t hold his son for the first four days of his life.

He understands, at first. When he gets to the rundown, abandoned house in Georgia, he is frantic, heart thudding in his chest. Scared to death of what he will find. He is so worried about Scully that he can barely even concentrate on what is happening. Can barely even conceptualize the idea of it. Scully is having a baby.

Monica Reyes directs him inside, and he can’t get there fast enough. He sees Scully, pale and drawn on the iron bed, shaking, the darkness of blood on the sheets. A small bundle clutched to her chest. She’s groggy from blood loss, but she won’t let go of the bundle. The baby. It isn’t until Mulder gets close to her, brushes hair off of her sweaty forehead and whispers, “You okay? Scully, you okay?” that he sees it. The baby in her arms, his little fists clenched as he cries. His first thought is that the baby looks like Scully. It’s silly to think, but it is true.

“We have a son, Mulder,” she whispers, her forehead against his shoulder. Her arms are wrapped tightly around their son, her hand cupping his head. “We have a son,” she whispers, swaying in place. “He’s here. They didn’t take him. He’s here.”

Mulder looks down at his son, frozen in place. Stunned beyond belief; he can feel every heartbeat. His son, so small and helpless curled on Scully’s chest. He has no hair. Mulder remembers a baby picture that his mother showed him once where he also had no hair. He swallows nervously. “We need to get you to a hospital, honey,” he whispers, eyes darting between Scully and the baby, Scully and the baby. “Both of you. Can you walk?”

Scully shakes her head, blinking slowly, her fingers brushing over the baby’s forehead. A tear trickles down her cheek. The baby whimpers.

Mulder’s eyes dart to the door. The helicopter has landed, and Monica is talking to the pilot. He has to get her out of here, he has to get them to safety. Scully and the baby. “I’m gonna take you out there,” he whispers. “Do you want me to… to, um… I can take him first, if you…”

Scully shakes her head absently, tucking the baby’s head further under her chin. The baby whimpers, his little hands curling in her hair. She kisses his little wrinkled forehead.

Mulder swallows again. From the influx of people leaving when he arrived, he isn’t surprised that Scully is frightened and unwilling to let the baby go. That’s all, he tells himself. That has to be it. He leans down and scoops Scully up gently, one arm under her legs and the other under her shoulder, holding her against his chest. He doesn’t feel the weight at all. She holds onto the baby, sagging into him, nestling the top of her head under his chin. Mulder walks carefully to the door, carrying the weight of his entire world in his arms.

Monica helps them settle in the helicopter, wrapping Scully and the baby in blankets. Scully is only half-conscious, clearly in a lot of pain; his heart hurts for her. She sags bonelessly against his shoulder as the helicopter leaves the ground; she still won’t let go of the baby. “Do you want to hold him?” she asks thickly, and Mulder is filled with relief. She’s not trying to keep him from holding the baby, she wants him involved. He hasn’t been sure about that in the weeks since he came back. A part of him wants to say yes. But a part of him is still scared. The baby is so small in Scully’s arms. He is terrified of hurting him for some reason. He wants to shield them both, make sure no one will ever hurt them. He kisses the top of Scully’s head and doesn’t answer, tears blurring his eyes. He doesn’t know what to say.

He reaches down to touch the baby’s face, tentatively, and the baby curls a tiny hand around his finger. His heart almost splits in two. He wraps an arm around Scully and she melts into him. I’m a dad, Mulder thinks, overwhelmed. He touches the back of the baby’s little hand with his thumb, gently. I’m a dad.

—

He sees Scully in the hospital the next day, who is doing considerably better. The baby is in the nursery, she says regretfully, but she seems happy to see him. When he leans down to kiss his cheek, she hugs him fiercely around the neck. He sits on the edge of the bed and wraps his arms around her, kisses her forehead, and she snuggles into him. “You all right?” he whispers into her shoulder. “You still sore?”

She nods. “I can’t believe it, Mulder,” she whispers, and there is a smile in her voice. “I still can’t believe it. We have a son.”

He is so happy this has happened for her. For them. He can still remember the moment she asked him to be the father of her child, the moment he said yes, nearly a year ago. It has taken a long time and a lot of suffering, but here they are. He can’t believe it either. “I can’t believe it, either,” he says, kissing her shoulder lightly. “It doesn’t seem real yet.”

Scully nods in agreement. She moves back, lying against the pillows, and he tucks the blankets around her. He wants to ask about the baby, but he doesn’t know how. Something in him is still scared.

“They let me see him a couple hours ago,” says Scully, as if reading his mind. “But they took him back to the nursery to monitor him. They want to observe us a little bit longer, make sure we’re okay.”

“Oh.” Mulder’s shoulders hunch up under his jacket; he doesn’t quite know how to ask how to see him. Ask if he has the right. “When do you think you’ll be getting out?” he asks instead.

“Tomorrow or the next day, at the latest. It’ll be great to get home,” Scully says, one side of her mouth rising up in a half-smile.

“I’ll bet,” says Mulder. His eyes stray to the cluster of blue balloons on the bedside table. He wonders who they are from. He doesn’t know how to ask the questions he needs answered.

Scully reaches for his hand and takes it in hers. “We would love for you to be there,” she says seriously. “When we come back.”

He looks down at their joined hands, and then up at Scully. She is looking at him seriously, with a great amount of love in her expression. An expression he’s been seeing more and more often since he came back, since he found out she was pregnant. The first time he felt the baby kick, his hand spanning her stomach, she looked so happy he thought he would split in two.

He squeezes her fingers. He is scared, but not scared enough to run away. He has a family. For the first time in years, he has a family, and he doesn’t want to screw this up. He wants to be a good father, better than any he ever had.

“I’ll be there,” he says.

—

On his son’s fifth day in the world, he and his mother arrive back home in Georgetown. Mulder gets there too late, arriving as the Gunmen in their Three Wise Men routine are leaving, but Scully doesn’t seem to mind. Her smile when he enters is absolutely blinding. She hands him his son for the first time, and his entire world shifts.

He holds his son against his chest, rocking back and forth, humming a little. Overwhelmed with all of it. They have a son, he and Scully are parents, and his son is tiny and real, a warm weight in his arms. He kisses Scully gently with their son between them, and she kisses him back just as softly. The baby fusses between them. Mulder rocks him back and forth.

William. His son’s name is William.

He loves him more than he can put into words.

—

The three of them are on the bed, Mulder and his family. Scully is half-asleep beside him, but her hand is curled around William’s little foot. “He’s so tiny, Mulder,” she says in a sleep-sweet voice. “I didn’t know people could be so tiny.”

“I dunno,” Mulder says quietly, so as not to wake up William. He cups William’s head in his palm; it fits perfectly there. “I just figured he took after your side of the family.”

Scully hits him lightly in the shoulder. Mulder chuckles softly. William snuffles, but he doesn’t wake up. “Speaking of… your family,” he adds carefully. “I seem to remember several William Scullys before this one.  Several other… namesakes.”

Scully shrugs, snuggling into his side. She traces William’s little socked foot with the tip of her finger. “Call it convenient, Mulder. He’s named after both grandfathers.”

A smile breaks out over Mulder’s face. He can’t help it. He knew that he was the father—or at least he thought he knew—but it is amazing to hear the confirmation. He taps the tip of William’s nose with his thumb. “Very inconvenient.”

“Very,” Scully agrees. She lets go of William’s foot, leans over to kiss the top of his head.

Mulder watches them, his partner and his son, and it feels like looking up at the galaxies, the whole entire universe. “I love you,” he says. Scully freezes, still bent over William, but he senses it isn’t because she is upset. He reaches out to touch the side of her face, strokes her cheek. “I love you both so much, Scully,” he says tremulously.

Scully sinks back on her knees carefully, turns to face him. Tears welling in her eyes. “I love you,” she whispers thickly, wiping the tears from her eyes. She is smiling.

Mulder leans forward, their mouths bumping together. Scully’s lips are soft and salty under his. He leans in further, their noses bumping together, but a shrill squall erupts between them. His son is awake, red-faced and wailing on his chest.

Scully sniffs, wiping her eyes. “I think someone’s hungry,” she says in a light, sweet voice. She reaches for the baby, and Mulder lowers him into her arms. The baby fusses, kicking out at the blankets he’s swaddled in, and Scully soothes him, rocking him back and forth, unbuttons a few buttons on her pajama shirt and lifting William up to her breast.

Mulder reaches down and brushes William’s cheek. The baby grips his finger, the way he did on the helicopter, and holds onto it as he eats. “He’s so amazing, Scully,” he whispers. “I can’t believe it. I can’t believe we did this.”

She smiles down at the baby. William’s tiny fingernails scrape against Mulder’s finger. Mulder remembers that moment the night William was born where he held them both, carrying them outside. Scully and William, his family. His world, his universe. A thousand galaxies here before him.

He will never forget this moment for as long as he lives.


End file.
